The Last Victim_ A True-Life Journey Into the Mind of the Serial Killer - Jason Moss [40]
Bursting with too much excitement to keep it bottled up, I ran downstairs to find Jarrod and my mother eating breakfast.
“Hey, guess what? Guess who I was just talking to?” They could tell something was up.
“Gacy,” I blurted out. “He actually called. Can you guys fuckin’ believe it!”
“Watch your mouth,” my mother reminded.
“No way!” my brother gasped. “Are you serious?” His fork, which had been en route to his mouth, now clattered to the table.
It was obvious my mother didn’t think I was serious. “Sure he called,” she said sarcastically. Then, as if I didn’t know the rudimentary facts of life, she added, “They can’t make calls from prison.”
“Yes they can,” I answered. “They can only use the phone on certain days, but they can call anyone they want.”
“Jason, you’re definitely sick,” my mother responded. “I can’t believe you had this guy call our house. This is definitely getting out of hand.”
“I never really thought he’d do it,” I said, defending myself with a half-truth. “God, this makes everything I’m doing so real. I can’t believe I actually talked to this guy on the phone.”
“This is too weird,” my brother said. Anticipating a blowup between my mother and me, he left the room.
“Who do you think is going to pay this phone bill?” my mother said, closing in for the kill. “We sure the hell aren’t. You better get yourself a job.” In a huff, she began cleaning up the dishes from the night before.
“Mom,” I said with more than a little exasperation, “why are you so concerned about stuff like that? Don’t you realize who I was just on the phone with? John Wayne Gacy. The serial killer!”
My mother was unimpressed, or at the very least, she was determined not to seem impressed. She simply refused to talk about it, except to mention the money: “If Gacy is willing to pay for it, then fine. I just think that what you’ve got yourself involved in is ridiculous.”
That’s the last time I would tell my parents much about what I was up to. I’d make sure they received all the checks Gacy eventually sent to cover the phone calls, but beyond that, it was information blackout. Whatever I was going to do, I’d have to do it on my own, with only a little support from my brother.
I spent the rest of the day talking to Jarrod about the phone conversation I had with Gacy. My brother seemed impressed that I’d been able to keep my cool. But he was also worried: “Look, I don’t want you to think I’m a pussy or anything, but I’m not going to answer your phone anymore. It could be him calling and I don’t want to even hear his voice.”
I later learned that this was when Jarrod began having terrible nightmares that would disrupt his sleep for weeks at a time. My own would soon follow.
17
A Back Door
I received a letter from Gacy the next day, obviously mailed before we’d talked on the phone. From this point forward, he kept an almost constant stream of mail coming to my house, often three or four letters per week. He sent packages as well, one including the painting he’d promised me, others filled with pornographic books and photos of nude men.
In addition to the increased presence of sexual fantasies in his letters, there was also a certain egomania. Again and again he touted his “accomplishments” to demonstrate his superiority over me. One letter reminded:
Much of what is known about me is slanted from a media point of view so as time goes on I will try to explain fact from fiction. Keep in mind there are 11 hard bound books out on me, 42 others with full chapters on me, two screen plays, one movie, one off Broadway play, 5 songs written about me, and over 500 articles on me. And 80% of them are fantasy and fraud.
As absurd as this “list of credits” was, there was also something